


Vignette

by UNHhhh



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: M/M, NSFW, Oh at all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 01:58:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10652571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UNHhhh/pseuds/UNHhhh
Summary: Brian was used to Katya’s rolling hips and pursed lips at this point. Years of friendship had trained him to observe the writhing mass of a woman sweating it out on stage and not see it as an invitation to get his freak on. He knew not to fantasize about pinning her down and doing unspeakable things to her, but he couldn’t help but touch himself to the thought occasionally. They were business partners as well as best friends, and if that wasn’t enough for Brian to know to back off, well, he’d have to be patently idiotic.





	Vignette

**Author's Note:**

> For the sake of our sanity, I've stuck with the name Katya and feminine pronouns throughout the work. Part of me really wanted to switch Brian/Katya up but I was confusing myself just testing it out, so Katya she remains (with the exception of a couple of places).
> 
> This started out as a four-page scribble in my journal and somehow morphed into the monster it is today. I wrote all in one night on minimal sleep, but I've edited it multiple times so it should be good to go.
> 
> Enjoy! I've literally never written a sex scene before (aside from heavy petting scenes when I was obsessed with MCR like ten years ago), so if it can be improved upon, please let me know.

Brian was used to Katya’s rolling hips and pursed lips at this point. Years of friendship had trained him to observe the writhing mass of a woman sweating it out on stage and _not_ see it as an invitation to get his freak on. He knew not to fantasize about pinning her down and doing unspeakable things to her, but he couldn’t help but touch himself to the thought occasionally. They were business partners as well as best friends, and if that wasn’t enough for Brian to know to back off, well, he’d have to be patently idiotic.

But Katya’s back rolled in that red cheerleading suit and her eyes raked over Brian’s cowboy body standing just offstage and he swore he had been lit on fire- and he knew he was a true idiot.

He watched a bead of sweat fly off the sweatiest woman in show business and he was simultaneously disgusted and aroused. He wanted to make the sweat fly off the man in a blonde wig, he wanted to taste it.

Jesus, Brian, get a grip. Or just get laid, he scorned himself. It had been too long since he’d had sex and the twenty-seven-year-old man could hear his virility screaming to be acknowledged.

He tore his eyes away from Katya’s performance to weigh his options in the small, stuffy club. There were a few lookers, much more his type than the queen currently doing high kicks on stage: they were stocky, ripped and ready to hold Brian down and give it to him hard and fast and anonymously. But every time he looked at them, made eye contact with a stranger, he saw Katya: her bedroom eyes, her blonde straw hair sticking to her temples, smeared red lipstick trailing a chiseled chin.

You’re awful and you’re doing an awful job, Brian told himself as he buried his face in the hand that wasn’t holding an overpriced whiskey sour.

He wasn’t even sure when he had started to feel an attraction towards the older queen. They had been friends for so long, had done so much together, that it kind of just crept up on him. And one day Brian McCook was standing on her tiptoes in Brian Firkus’ kitchen and her shirt rode up a little bit as she reached for the dinner glasses in the cabinet and Firkus’ throat went dry and his cock stood at attention. He had to rush into the bathroom to stare himself down with a hauntingly derisive look…and then furiously beat off to what was perhaps the most shameful orgasm he had ever had.

Katya’s laugh was annoying at six a.m. when Brian had gotten two hours of sleep and was running on a hot, flat Redbull and the nerves that come with being late for a flight. Katya was too much to bear in a cramped airplane cabin when there was a kid crying behind them and she wouldn’t stop telling stories of her MDMA experiences to keep her mind off her fear of flying. Katya knew how to press Brian’s buttons, and she did so on a regular basis, making stupid jokes and weird noises that pulled the most withered of looks from deep within Brian’s soul.

And through all of that, Brian’s dick had still gotten stiff at his friend’s rock-hard core flexing to keep her balance when she misjudged how far she had to rock back onto her heels. That stupid bark of a laugh and wide, blinding smile shot straight through Brian’s core. As he came all over the basin of his bathroom sink his eyes fluttered up to his blotchy face and swollen lips and he knew. He knew he was in deep.

From that point on, it was hard for Brian to be alone with Katya without feeling a little bit awkward. Thankfully she hadn’t picked up on it, or if she had, she’d at least been gracious enough to not say anything. But her actions around him as of late had been increasingly suspicious.

After having been able to do it alone all these years, Katya suddenly needed help with lining her upper lip- “I’m doing something new, I want you to draw me a new style,” she had said. Her layers of lashes hadn’t been able to hide the mischievous look in her eyes as Brian stooped down, balanced his pinky on her chin, and drew her a sharpened, full cupid’s bow. He called her out for staring at him intently and throwing off his game- it hadn’t turned out how he had intended, but she gasped in delight at her new lip, glossed it slowly in admiration.

She did backbends in just her underwear, pre-tuck, claiming to be stretching, but her junk was pointed directly at Brian as he furiously slammed his powder puff into his face. The substance exploded in front of his eyes and shielded the reflection of Katya’s slowly thrusting hips only for a moment. His face had looked curiously dry and extra cakey for a few shows, until Katya began doing her stretches on stage at rehearsal.

And tonight, before she began dancing to Deee-Lite’s “Groove Is in the Heart,” she had held Brian’s hands in hers, veiled behind a curtain mere feet from the audience, and kissed him full on the lips. The kiss was soft but it held purpose. She was standing on her toes even though she was wearing her black jelly platforms. When she stopped kissing him- just as Brian had begun to kiss back- she grinned and laughed, said, “I needed some extra luck tonight- my hemorrhoid’s back,” and then skipped out onto the stage.

Brian hadn’t cared to wipe the lipstick off his face, mostly because he didn’t have the brainpower to do it. Once he had recovered, he figured leaving the mark would be a good way to get some more publicity for their “are they or aren’t they?” Trixya fandom rumor mill. Rumors meant dollars and if it doesn’t make dollars, it doesn’t make sense. Brian giggled at his silly joke, accidentally blew bubbles into his drink through the impossibly tiny straw.

He played back Katya’s kiss as he sucked down his drink. It was fervent, but it held something soft and shy, too, and even though Brian hadn’t been able to fire his neurons fast enough to respond to it, she had full-on made out with his closed lips as if that was exactly what she had wanted to do for a long time.

He always thought he knew her better than she knew him, on account of her not having any sort of filter whatsoever, but he was beginning to think he was wrong.

Suddenly the crowd hollered at the top of their collective lungs, Brian looked back up at his best friend from the side of the stage- and Katya was doing her infamous slow splits and staring right into Brian’s eyes, boring into them with a look that said, “I know you want me, baby. That’s why I brought you here.”

Brian wanted to sink into the ground. He wanted to be anyone but himself, watching Katya stop mid-split- raising her eyebrows at him as if she was showing him a car on the lot- slide down more- pause, grin wide- and then slam her crotch onto the stage repeatedly to the rabid applause of the audience.

She looked back at the crowd and Brian was thankful she didn’t see him jump, blush, effeminately put a hand on his hip then methodically rub his head, and throw back the rest of his drink.

She would have cackled, slapped his leg playfully had they been alone and entertaining each other in the comfort of their living rooms, giving into their showboating ways. He would have told her to shut the fuck up and to go do the splits in the middle of the road. They would have shared a pregnant pause after the laughter died down.

Thankfully the crowd was there to take Katya’s attention off Brian and he could shit himself in peace.

Five minutes and one good-night speech later and she was bounding off the stage, laughing hysterically- at what, only she knew- and jumping up and down in front of him.

“I fucking love my job!” Katya shrieked. Brian could see her uvula, she was laughing so big and loud, and it made him laugh a little, too.

Katya grabbed his bald head, smacked a large kiss onto it, then took off backstage where he knew she was going to chain-smoke and refresh her makeup for the next thirty minutes before her meet and greet began.

In the club’s crowded bathroom, he was wiping the red marks off his face and chatting with a few obviously interested men. One of them feigned ignorance as he passed by Brian and rubbed his hand on his round ass. Brian continued to clean up, regretted that there was now a patch of foundation missing from his face, and attempted to blend the rest of it into the space, as another man drunkenly confessed his attraction.

“That’s really sweet of you, but I’ve got to get back to my wife and kids,” Brian smiled a sad, sarcastic smile at the shorter man- Katya flashed before his eyes and disappeared just as quickly- and then took off. He waded through the sea of people, flashed a lanyard at the backstage door, and found his way to Katya’s dressing room.

She wasn’t inside, and Brian felt his heart skip a beat and it _hurt_. He laid down on the white pleather couch catty-corner to the vanity and scrolled through his phone.

He opened Snapchat, snorted at Kim’s obsession with capturing K-pop music videos on the platform, then quickly tapped through the snaps he had received from fans.

Occasionally he’d stop, admire someone with an approving look and a nod, screenshot their photo, and move on. Mostly he glanced at unimpressive dick- and tit-pics (Why the breasts? Wasn’t he like, the gayest person on earth? He considered screenshotting them for Katya, knowing she enjoyed looking at a nice pair every once in a while but decided against it.) The sporadic fan art made him smile, and he always made sure to take the time to send them a quick “thank you <3” in the chat.

The noise of the club got louder and was almost immediately shut out again as Katya slid into the dressing room. She looked winded and exhausted. Brian thought he could see the bruises under her eyes through the twenty layers of makeup, but when she caught sight of him reclining she grinned and the mirth was back.

“Is that not the best crowd you’ve seen in a while?!” She threw her hands up in the air as she walked towards him. Her cheerleading skirt fluttered as she sat on her legs in front of the couch. Brian turned his head to face her and nodded.

Her smile was infectious and he couldn’t help but return it. She was still a little breathless and part of her dirty old bob was sticking straight up and Brian’s heart hurt again but it felt good this time. The pang echoed between his legs.

“They were seriously eating it up. I’m pretty sure they never stopped screaming.”

“At all!” She agreed. She sat opposite his direction and splayed her sinewy legs out in front of her, leaned forward and grabbed the bottoms of her platforms with ease, groaned. The groan echoed between his legs. “I’m seriously stoked to meet them. I’m so fucking exhausted, Bri, _so_ fucking exhausted, but I wouldn’t be able to sleep if I didn’t go out there and say hello to each and every one of them. I’m such a slave.”

Katya jabbered without thinking for a few moments. Brian could tell when she wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying anymore because her inflections didn’t slot into her sentences properly. He nodded and responded appropriately, watching her do her post-show stretch ritual.

She sat up. One foot met the outside of the opposite knee and she twisted away from it. Brian could hear the popping of her spine even though one ear was pressed against the couch. The couch bounced his heartbeat back into his head, and he heard it speed up and slow down with every in and out breath. She stiffened into the pose, sighed deeply, and relaxed.

The stiffening echoed between his legs.

“Why did you kiss me?” He blurted out before he could catch himself.

Blushing, he sat up quickly and scooted his back to rest against the arm of the couch. His phone slid between the cushions, completely forgotten. Katya slowly undid herself from the pose, switched her feet, and looked him in the eyes as she twisted her spine to face him. Her vertebrae popped in succession, and Brian could practically feel it in his own bones, it was so pronounced. She bit her lip.

“I told you, I needed some extra luck- “

“No.” Brian shook his head firmly. “Don’t.”

Katya knew what he meant by that and a micro expression of embarrassment flitted across her face. She unwound herself yet again and sat still, hands in her lap.

She took a breath and Brian held on tight.

“Because- I kissed you because I wanted to know what it felt like. To kiss you without an audience.” She clarified with a shrug. He knew she was thinking about the times their lips locked in front of cameras and fans, just as he was. He wondered if it made her stomach do somersaults too. “I’ve been thinking a lot lately about what it would feel like, and I wanted to know for sure.”

She stared at him with an unreadable expression. Brian found he wasn’t breathing.

“Why have you been thinking about it?” He asked softly.

Her hands fiddled in her lap. She knocked her jelly platforms together. Her kneecaps retracted and relaxed again and again, but her face didn’t change. Katya was a good liar, and though it came in handy when she got Brian out of trouble with the law for drunkenly pissing on a street in England once (“He’s got a very small bladder, you see- I’ve been trying to get him to wear a catheter for years but he just won’t do it!”), right now it was making him a little agitated. Brian knew she was equivocating, and because of the many times she had asked him if he believed equivocation was lying (she didn’t, he did, their debate ran in circles every time), he knew that _she_ knew it would make him crazy.

Katya shrugged.

“Are you fucking serious?” Brian barked. He knew his face looked nasty and he didn’t like it, couldn’t help it. “Come on, Katya. You never shut up, ever, and suddenly the cat’s got your tongue?”

“Well, where was yours earlier when I was licking your lips?” Katya giggled, but Brian could see the hurt in her eyes, and behind that, a shimmering desire.

“You caught me off guard!”

“Brian,” Katya giggled some more. “I gave you like fifteen good seconds to catch up.  Good Lord, Judy, do we need to get you an MRI scan?”

“Would you please!” Brian threw his hands up. Katya stopped laughing. “Why can’t you answer this seriously? Would it kill you?”

Katya slowly sat on her legs again, kneeled so she was just below Brian’s face. She took his hands in hers- she was clammy. She licked her lips nervously, glanced at his before staring into his eyes intensely. The faint smell of cigarettes wrapped around them. As much as he hated to admit it, Brian had started to enjoy the scent.

“Brian Firkus,” She breathed. “I would love to answer that question with full and complete transparency. But I’ve got to get this face back up to showbiz level ready, and if I told you right now I-“ She glanced down, back up into his eyes. “I’d have to start from square one because this makeup would be smeared all over that fat ass of yours. And that’s not a joke.”

She shook her head slowly as if she had just told him something very profound, and Brian felt his jeans tighten for the third time that night. She brought one of his hands to her lips and kissed it before standing up and walking to the vanity.

“Come to my hotel room tonight,” she said in a quiet voice as she fiddled with her wig. “Full disclosure: I’m going to tell you the truth, and then I’m going to try to seduce you harder than I ever have before. If you don’t want that, if you think you can’t handle it or if it will set you off, don’t come.”

Brian didn’t reply. He fished his phone out from between the cushions and silently sent out a few tweets, vented his frustrations by leaving crude comments on Willam’s posts. Katya left ten agonizing minutes later, and Brian whined and buried his face into the back of the couch.

She hadn’t given him any room to back out, and they both knew it. She had basically told him why she had kissed him without saying anything at all- damn, he fucking hated equivocation, more than outright lies. At least with lies, you could parse out the true from the false once you learned a person’s tells. Equivocation just meant a blur of half-truths and hidden meanings, and it frustrated Brian to no end.

 

[ **Trixie Mattel** @trixiemattel](https://twitter.com/trixiemattel)  [2](https://twitter.com/trixiemattel/status/853556832148893696)s

I’ve got 99 problems and a cagey Judy is one.

 

  **\------------------------------------------------**

 

It was three a.m. when their Uber pulled up to the Marriott with the half-lit sign. Neither Katya nor Brian had said a word to each other on the ride back, their noses buried in their phones, Katya’s makeup bags and suitcase stacked up between them uncomfortably. Katya would snort and Brian would roll his eyes; he asked the driver to turn up Reba’s newest single and Katya groaned.

The air was thick with tension. This had happened once before when Brian had been incredibly insensitive to Katya’s drug addiction and made the bluest joke to have ever come out of his mouth. They had yelled at each other, shouts that had them both hoarse the next day, and it had almost come to blows.

It had been Brian’s fault, and he knew it. All he had to do was admit as much and Katya would have melted, would have immediately hugged him and forgiven him. She hated confrontation, hated yelling and creating more anger in the world. She claimed it clouded her psyche and then she couldn’t connect with anyone on the right frequency for a few days. But he had driven her to it. He had driven his best friend to frustrated tears and half-moon imprints in her palms, all because he was too stubborn to say he was sorry and admit he was wrong.

He wasn’t sure whose fault it was for the tension this time, if it was his because he pushed her when she should have been relaxing in a rare moment of quietude, or hers because she was dragging out the answer to a simple question for so long, or a combination of both. He mulled it over as he rolled her suitcase behind him, shouldered a makeup bag and clutched the other two without straps in his fist.

Katya followed meekly behind him, her bare feet slapping the tiled floor as they made their way to the elevator.

Her platforms hung off two fingers of one hand as she jabbed at the number eight with the other once they were inside the lift. Brian caught her eyes in the mirrored wall of the elevator and smiled a little. There wasn’t any makeup to hide her blush as she observed him carrying all her gear. He hadn’t even given her a chance to get any of it out of the car: as she was thanking the driver and fishing out an extra tip from her wallet (okay, so probably both their faults- she felt guilty about something), he scooped it all up.

“Thank you,” She said quietly, gesturing with her shoed hand at the veins popping in his left arm from holding all that makeup. “You didn’t have to do that.”

Her voice was coming back to full volume and he felt his own rise in his chest.

“I think I did.”

She turned to face him. The elevator pinged, and Brian swiftly exited into the hallway and started down the path to the right.

“What’s your room number?”

“Eight forty-two.”

“Oh.” He turned around and started down the other pathway. “Why am I two floors below you?”

“Beats me. Maybe they think we’ll keep each other up all night and shirk our brunch duties in the morning.”

Brian’s heart hurt again.

“If that’s true, then they don’t really know us.”

“Oh, at all.”

The two laughed at the millionth Drag Race joke to have been made between them as they arrived at her room.

Katya slid in front of Brian to unlock the door. The padding of her bottom rubbed against the front of his jeans just enough reverse his blood flow.

She turned down the handle and swung open the door to reveal a suite, complete with a well-furnished living room, jacuzzi tub, and California King-size bed. Brian gasped.

“Okay- my room is _not_ this nice!”

Katya cackled.

“Oh, did they give you economy again, bag boy?” She spun around and pouted at him playfully.

She had already made herself at home: a suitcase was wide open on the coffee table and clothes were hanging out of it, some had fallen to the floor. Random cans of grape Crush and Redbull were opened and left haphazardly on any and all solid surfaces. A bag of popcorn sat by the telephone, seemingly untouched.

She had only spent two hours in the room total.

Now Katya was moving a pile of jewelry from the blue couch to the burnt orange loveseat. Brian sat her makeup bags down on the small dining table, propped up her suitcase against the back of the couch. He massaged his cramping hand as he peeked past the sliding French doors into the bedroom: it had mood lighting, a dusky, deep blue, and the down comforter shone like a homing beacon against the dark Cherrywood bedroom suit. The bathroom, with entrances on both the wall connected to the living room as well as the bedroom, had a marble floor. The wall behind the tub was made of tiny square mirror tiles. A thousand Brians made up one whole Brian as he stared slack-jawed at the adjacent shower with three showerheads.

He emerged from the bathroom with a sassy look on his face. Katya looked up at him from her housekeeping and a barking laugh escaped her wide mouth. She grinned.

“Is your room really that much worse than mine?”

“Bitch, they didn’t even give me soap.” He put a hand on his hip and Katya howled.

“Well, the bed’s big enough for the two of us?” she offered.

A sliver of memory foam could have been big enough for the two of them for all Brian cared.

She was unpinning her wig, slipping it off and following suit with her wig cap, and suddenly she was Brian McCook in a cheerleading outfit and not Katya Zamolodchikova. It didn’t make their impending conversation any easier to approach.

Brian took a step forward, shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Look, I’m sorry for pushing you earlier. I should have just let you relax- you said you were exhausted and I let my nerves get to me and I was an asshole. I’m sorry.”

Katya smiled a half smile as she unzipped her skirt.

“I accept your apology. And I’m sorry I didn’t take your question seriously. I know you don’t like equivocation, the lie’s distant cousin-"

“It’s the same fucking thing.”

“And I won’t use it against you again. I promise.”

Her small, square hands were rolling off pair after pair of pantyhose. She hit padding and tossed it to the floor before removing the last two pair.

Katya stood in her black lacy thong and cheer top. Her hands hung at her sides as she watched Brian watch her. One thing Katya had never given a clear answer about: why she wore underwear that was more expensive than most of her wigs when it was completely covered. Brian had his theories.

“I need some help with this shirt- can you unzip it for me?”

Brian nodded and walked over to her.

“I’m gonna take the zipper out and put in some industrial Velcro, it’s just too cumbersome.”

“That’s a fucking small zipper,” Brian mumbled as his dexterous fingers fumbled with the tiny thing. Katya hummed in affirmation.

The zipper caught on the fabric on the way down and Brian had to zip it back up and start over again. By the time he had finished unzipping it his breathing was heavier and he felt her ribcage expanding and contracting rapidly underneath his hands. Her body heat was roasting him alive.

The top fell open as the zipper reached the bottom of the fabric and he smoothed it off her shoulders. He ran his hands down her muscular arms and licked his lips.

Katya reached back and popped the clasp of her bra, and two fillers tumbled out of the cups and onto the floor. She turned around to face Brian, who quietly took her in.

The elastic of her underwear cut into what little fat was on her hips. She hooked her thumbs into the sides and began to slide them off her.

“Wait.” Brian choked out. Katya froze.

“Yes?”

“Will you answer my question?”

Katya closed her eyes momentarily before nodding and walking towards the bathroom. Her ass bounced a little with each step and Brian could feel the familiar stirring between his legs start up again. He palmed himself over his jeans before moving to sit on the couch.

The sound of tape ripping and Katya sucking in air between her teeth cut through the silence.

Katya emerged wrapped in a fluffy robe and sat beside him. They turned to face each other, knees knocking. She placed a hand where they met.

“You asked me why I’ve been thinking about kissing you, yeah?” She inquired. Brian nodded and she took a deep breath. “Okay. I’ll be honest: I’m horridly, utterly, terrifyingly, and unyieldingly in love with you.”

Brian’s world stood still. He felt like he could step outside his body and observe the moment, frozen in time. He wished he could, wished he could look at his shell-shocked face and laugh at it, make fun of his gasp, coo at Katya’s sweet expression.

Time resumed as Katya continued to speak.

“I don’t know when it happened. I couldn’t even tell you a roundabout time- it’s all just kind of melded together, my experiences with you, and they’ve culminated, sublimated into some weird, mushy… _thing_ that I’m pretty sure is love?”

Katya looked unsure of herself now and Brian’s heart went back to hurting the bad way.

“I don’t know- I’ve never felt this way before. What I do know is that kissing you earlier, even though you didn’t reciprocate _at all_ , felt so fucking correct. And all the dreams I’ve been having about you and me together on a beach somewhere or hiking Mount Kilimanjaro or just plain ‘ole fucking have been the most exciting dreams I’ve ever had and I haven’t wanted to wake up from them. Not once. Well- that one time you woke me up because I slept in, it was nice to wake up to the real thing.

“But I’ve been thinking about kissing you for months.” Katya slipped her fingers between his and clasped his hand. “I’ve been thinking about a lot more than that, actually…” She admitted demurely, “but mostly that. You’re so beautiful, and smart and funny and talented, and biting and acerbic and strong and whiny and cute and ugly and dirty as _fuck_ and clean and warm- god-damn.” She shook her head.

Brian’s heart had officially stopped beating. He was hanging onto her every word.

She looked up at him from their hands and shrugged. “I’m in love with you.”

Brian couldn’t help it: he started laughing.

Katya looked mortified as Brian laughed, slapped his thigh with his free hand. He laughed and laughed, and when he settled down and unscrewed his eyes from being shut with mirth, he saw tears in Katya’s.

“Well, you don’t have to be a jerk ‘bout it,” Katya mumbled.

“Oh!” Brian gasped. “Oh- no! No, I was laughing- I wasn’t laughing _at you_! No, Kat-"

He wiped away the tear that rolled down Katya’s cheek.

“I laughed because I’m relieved.”

Her face went from sad to intrigued.

“I’m so relieved to hear you say that.” Brian smiled warmly at Katya. He cupped her cheek and rubbed the tear track away. “I’m pretty sure I love you too.”

Katya broke out into a grin.

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh- when! When?!”

“I don’t know!” They were speaking in excited tones now, getting louder every second. “I can’t tell you when I figured it out, I just _did_ , and- yeah, yeah, I love you.” His hand hadn’t left her face. She moved to kiss his wrist as he continued. “I love you too. I can’t believe you love _me_.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re a sexy cross-dressing cowboy with an ass that just won’t quit and a voice like a banjo.”

Brian laughed.

“Well, you’re a sexy cross-dressing old man with the body of an-"

“Irish rock climber, yeah, yeah,” Katya waved. “You should kiss me now.”

And Brian did.

Brian kissed Katya with all the love and admiration he had held back for God knows how long. He kissed her slowly, languidly, taking in her slightly chapped lips and her cigarette breath once his tongue touched hers. He placed short, staccato kisses on the corners of her mouth and cupid’s bow, he kissed her deeply and moaned as she licked inside his mouth, grazed his teeth.

She fisted his shirt with both of her hands and pulled him on top of her. The robe fell open as Brian crawled over to her side of the couch. He propped himself up with one hand while he slid the other down Katya’s hot skin. He could feel her heart beating frantically as he kissed her neck.

Only once before had they gotten this far.

Katya had been high as a kite and Brian had been four margaritas deep, and, tucked privately into Brian’s apartment, they had made out shirtless like a couple of unsure teenage boys while Will and Grace reruns played in the background. It hadn’t gone any further, and it was so early on in their friendship that it was excused as just excitement- excitement over Drag Race, their blossoming friendship and careers, turning over new leaves. Brian remembered feeling something tugging at his chest then, but he had been too defensive to let himself explore it.

Now his chest was being tugged again, but it was Katya trying to take his shirt off. He broke his trail of kisses long enough to sit up and discard it amongst her piles of drag paraphernalia and started back up again, kissing down her chest slowly.

“God…” Katya breathed. She sat up and watched Brian kiss her bellybutton, lick a trail down to the underwear she had put back on. “I’m not religious but if this is what going to church is like, count me in.”

Brian nuzzled his face against Katya’s surprisingly large cock that was straining against the lace. He inhaled her scent and groaned in satisfaction. His fingertips dug into her strong thighs and massaged the muscles there and he kissed the outline of her cock through the fabric, sucked lightly on its underside.

“Brian I’m going to cum from this if you don’t quit,” Katya said quickly.

Brian laughed and sat up a little, freed Katya from her underwear and sent it flying away from them. She was completely hard and already slick with precum and Brian thumbed it with desire, completely, hedonistically in love with the way he could pull his thumb away and remain connected to Katya by a thin string.

She hissed and her head fell back, propped up by the arm of the couch. Brian’s legs were a little cramped but he didn’t care at all, he liked the way Katya’s shin was pressed up against his own dick and he rutted against it as he pumped her slowly.

“Do you always get this wet?” Brian breathed.

“Only when I’m turned on,” Katya shrugged. Brian giggled, then replaced his hand with his mouth and Katya moaned loudly.

His mouth was hot and wet and he knew exactly what to do, and Katya was writhing underneath him within seconds and grasping at his shoulders, his ears, his smooth bald head and digging her short fingernails into his skin. He took her in all the way and flinched a little, and she whispered encouraging sweet nothings as she watched him hollow out his cheeks and work him.

And he worked her, alright. She was thrusting up into his face before she knew it and he controlled it with a hand on her hip, but he let her fuck his face, and they both moaned loudly and with abandon. Katya couldn’t believe her luck.

Brian was picking up his pace, he was getting excited and Katya wanted him to get excited, she wanted him to make her scream, but she also wanted her dick inside his deliciously fat ass, so she pushed on his shoulders and ordered him to the bedroom.

Frantically, Katya searched through her suitcases for her lube and condoms. She pumped herself as she dug around with her other hand, and waltzed into the bedroom once she had located the supplies to find Brian had already taken his clothes off and was sitting cross-legged, waiting patiently for her to crawl onto the bed and take him like he knew she would.

Katya talked a fine game, and from the multiple reviews Brian had heard from their coworkers and the men who patronized the bars in West Hollywood, she had every right to brag. Brian had thought about her pumping in and out of him for years, he had gotten himself off so many times to the imagined sound of her slapping his ass and fucking him into the mattress, and now it was going to actually happen to him and he was so hard it hurt.

Katya stared at him brazenly as she tossed the lubricant and condom to the side. She was still hard, it looked like it hurt, too, but she didn’t touch herself anymore. She pushed Brian back against the down pillows and straddled him, rubbing herself against him and sighing.

“Honey, that’s big,” Katya moaned as she looked down at herself rubbing against Brian. He eclipsed her, though not by much, but it was enough to make a difference and she knew it. “I’m glad I don’t take it because I’d be limping tomorrow for sure.”

Brian laughed and grabbed Katya’s face, brought her down to kiss him hard as her hands made their way between them.

She was grabbing at him excitedly, rubbing him all over, and Brian whimpered as her hands expectantly made their way to his ass. She whimpered, too, at how soft and malleable his cheeks were, and she groped him incessantly, wished she could slap his ass till it turned black and blue, but settled on doing that another time in favor of holding him down with one hand while she grabbed for the lube with the other.

“Gonna make you feel so good,” She whispered as she coated a few fingers with the cold gel. Brian shivered and replied wordlessly as he watched her warm the lubricant up before she slowly, agonizingly slowly, moved her hand to his ass.

And then she was circling his entrance with her fingertips and he was gasping in delight. She rubbed him and he relaxed into her touch as if they had done this a thousand times before. Katya kissed him deeply as she slowly slid one finger inside and explored him.

Brian’s heart felt like it could explode any second. He was pumping both of them with his hands and Katya moaned into their kiss, breathed “Not so fast,” and Brian had to slow himself down, center himself and focus on the moment.

Katya was being so careful and slow, she slipped in another finger and gently stretched him out and he moaned out a “Yes, fuck yes, Katya,” and she took that as her invitation to work a little faster.

Soon she was pumping three fingers in and out of Brian’s ass and he was thrusting up to meet her. She angled her fingers to hit his prostate and he yelped, laid stock still as she hit it repeatedly and his eyes rolled back into his head. He couldn’t move and he didn’t care, he could have laid there for eternity and been perfectly fine with it as long as Katya had been fucking him like she was.

Brian missed her presence when she removed her fingers. She tore the condom wrapper open with her teeth, slid it on expertly and lubed herself up.

She looked into Brian’s eyes, said, “No, look at me,” when Brian shyly glanced away, and as he locked eyes with her, she slid inside him deftly and he saw stars.

Katya didn’t move once she was fully inside of him. Brian watched her as she hovered above him, one hand propped on his meaty shoulder and the other holding his leg up a little. Her mouth was hanging open, he could see the permanent retainer hiding behind the bottom row of her teeth, and she closed her eyes a little.

“This,” She breathed. “is the best ass I’ve ever been inside. I want to commemorate this moment by laying here, inside you, and just being right here, right now.”

Brian understood and appreciated his friend’s -boyfriend’s? - dedication to the moment, but it took everything inside of him not to ricochet his ass off the mattress and up onto Katya’s cock.

She breathed a few deep breaths, nodded briskly, then began thrusting at a pace Brian was not expecting but was delighted to experience.

If she had been clever with her fingers, she was even more clever with her cock, and Brian was quickly postverbal as he got fucked into the mattress, just how he had always imagined it. Katya flipped him over and admired his ass from behind before continuing her hard and fast pace. He was drooling onto the comforter, he didn’t even care, and his own cock was so swollen and in need of being touched that he couldn’t take it anymore and he began fisting himself, matching Katya thrust for thrust.

Katya’s moans were getting louder and closer together, and Brian knew it wasn’t going to be long for himself either. She had angled herself and paid another visit to his prostate as soon as she had turned him over, and it was so much, it was almost too much, and Brian was moaning like he never had before, long, drawn out moans with an upwards inflection at the end.

“Fuck, Bri,” Katya moaned. Her fingers dug into his hips. Brian’s hand worked faster against himself. “I’m gonna-"

“Yeah,” Brian breathed.

Suddenly he was climbing a mountain and then he was seeing white and arching his back and Katya was fucking him through the biggest orgasm of his life, such a far cry from the pathetic one he had had that night in his apartment.

He stayed up with his back arched as Katya whined and then groaned lowly. Her hips jerked as she finished, and then they collapsed together, a sweaty heap.

Brian was lying in puddles of drool and cum and Katya clutched at his shoulders, kissed the back of his head softly before slowly pulling out of him and rolling over onto her back to face him. She saw the drool and laughed that barking laugh, and this time, it didn’t annoy Brian at all; it made his heart swell. He would have drooled everywhere all the time if it meant she would laugh like that, be happy like that.

Katya got up to discard the condom and came back with a cool, wet washcloth. She rolled Brian over and lovingly cleaned him off, kissed him on the lips before cleaning herself off too.

The washcloth was tossed onto the floor and the couple tunneled themselves under the comforter, ignored the sheet that was practically superglued to the mattress, and cuddled each other, a mass of tangled limbs.

“I don’t want this to ever stop,” Brian mumbled against Katya’s lips. She smiled and pulled away to admire his face, stroke him lovingly.

“Then it won’t.”


End file.
